Ghost
by allieofmyeye
Summary: A promise made at sixteen to a silent Ouija board would forever change the future of my life, little did I know it... Erik/OC Alternate Modern Day


I turned off all the lights in my house, and lit a white candle on the floor of my living room. My mom didn't mind if I played Ouija, we even had two boards in our house. My mom would burn sage and light white candles since I was a little girl, I'd learned a lot from her.

I pushed my blonde hair behind my ears, and sat with my legs crossed in front of the board, the candlelight flicking across my face, and making the board appear so much more daunting.

I'd developed an obsession over the past few years, culminating in this moment.

"I put my hands onto the planchette, summoning my mental strength to push the planchette on my own without any spiritual help from another human.

""Hello?" I whispered. "Erik, I call for you."

I waited. "Erik, who has many last names, Destler being your most common… who lived under the Opera Garnier in Paris, France"

I waited again. "Who fell desperately in love with an opera singer named Christine…"

This was it. As her name trailed off my lips, the candle flickered and I knew there was a presence there with me.

"It was now or never. Time to make the promise I'd been ready to make for years.

"We're connected, I know it. But, before I'm ready to be yours, I need to finish school and my training."

He was, after all, a master, an angel of music. How could I ever be ready to go with him if I wasn't up to snuff? The practicality of this was obvious to me at sixteen. Finishing high school and some college was needed, plus, it would give me time to say goodbye to my regular life.

"I'll go with you, to stay forever, when I finish college. Come for me, and I will go wherever you ask. I love you"

The candle flickered again. The planchette had not moved a centimeter. I began to wonder if I didn't have enough strength for him to channel words back to me.

What if the spirit wasn't Erik, and I had promised myself to someone else? But, after all, Erik was dead. This had to be him, I'd called him specifically.

As content as I could be with my promise to him, I waited, hoping for any more confirmation.

"Goodbye then, till we meet one day…"

I blew out the candle.

 _Five years later…._

It was two am. I was still working on the last edits for my paper for music theory. Who would've known that it would be so difficult for a talentless student to be a success? Don't they always joke about students who buy degrees? And here I was, studying my butt off and barely making it.

But as they say, "C's get degrees"

I saved the last edit, and contemplated going to sleep. I had been at this for fourteen hours, and nearly driven myself mad. I reached over to grab an American spirit and looked for my lighter.

Smoking wasn't something that I'd taken up lightly…. I did it because everyone on campus did. The dancers got me started freshman year to lose a few pounds… and before you know it, I was sitting in smoking areas making tons of friends.

Even after losing weight, I'd kept up the habit. It helped to keep me slim, even when I wasn't dancing, and it was a great way to meet new people.

I'd briefly considered the fact that it wouldn't help my voice… but after a few voice lessons, my teacher had declared me impossible and asked me not to come back. I couldn't face the humiliation from the esteemed Carlotta, who taught nearly everyone on campus, and so I had quit my freshman year.

The promise I'd made so many years ago sometimes reared it's head in the back of my mind, my obsession with the Phantom of the Opera still very strong.

But, I'd never gotten another sign. Nothing except the small flicker of a candle had ever presented itself to me.

Sometimes I felt watched, but I chalked it up to paranoia and nothing more.

I'd started dating a guy named Chris, and he was great. He wasn't Erik, but he was everything else I'd ever wanted in a man, minus the music.

There had been a couple who came close to Erik. Once I'd even dated a man who had a deformed half side of his face…but, he was fairly unintelligent. You'd be surprised how hard it is to find a professional architect whose also deformed and a musical genius shut-away.

I rolled my eyes at myself as I took the last drag of my cigarette.

No matter, graduation was next week. Megan and I would walk across the stage and graduate and move on with our lives.

I'd probably marry my Raoul and live happily ever after, working as the set designer for the rest of my life at the University, maybe make it to stage manager one day.

I got up off the couch, and in my baggy sweatpants, hoodie and slippers trudged to my bedroom and immediately crashed onto my bed, passing out for the next twelve hours.


End file.
